The Autumnal Meeting
by gryffinclaw-witch
Summary: By the trio's fifth year, the Order of the Phoenix has begun to notice the progression of the war. Taking action, a meeting is called to discuss strategy, with one key member missing for most of it.
1. Chapter 1

Minerva was seated at her desk beside the largest window of the office, offset from her classroom not far away. Underneath the top of the greying sky outside were low, long clouds that signalled an upcoming rainy evening. Scarlet leaves littered the grass, and there was only enough gravity to continue it. Earlier today it had been of a sharply cool temperature, somewhat sunny, but there was little wind at all.

Now it was outside of class hours, late enough that the outdoor grounds were mostly deserted, with the majority of students having retreated to the Great Hall for dinner or perhaps to their respective dormitories to complete homework. Hogwarts looks beautiful in this golden light, Minerva thought, in this empty but cosy atmosphere.

Opening the topmost drawer to her right, she started to think instead of the worries that she had purposely neglected all day long. Dumbledore had first informed her, and then the other Heads of Houses, of them over the course of the past two weeks.

There was no knock, but Minerva recognised the presence beyond her door. He had arrived precisely and punctually on time.

"Severus, come in," she called, still rummaging in the drawer.

He opened the door and walked briskly inside, slamming it shut with his wand without so much as a single glance back. Minerva, her eyes averted as he approached the desk, cringed at the echo of the harsh noise.

A moment after he paused in front of her, she looked up and knew that, had this meeting been arranged a couple of hours later, she probably would not be able to see him; the darkness of his robes and complexion rivalled the dimness of the room.

"You've heard from Dumbledore": Though phrased as a question, Minerva stated it outright, because both she and Severus knew the answer already.

"I have."

The steadied, slow words almost cut Minerva lengthwise. The worry was valid, this meant, and it wouldn't go away. "And you know he wants us to go to the meeting," Snape went on.

"Yes, I do," she said, "and I intend on doing so."

"I won't attend in its entirety," Severus informed her. "I have . . ."—he almost rolled his words—"other responsibilities."

Minerva stopped sorting through her desk and just slightly tilted the angle of her head. "Such as, what?"

"As of late," he said, "I've taught Occlumency to a keen student."

Minerva's lidded eyes peered calmly at Snape; her lips pursed with thought. "Is it mandatory that this particular lesson be taught," she asked, "or are you willing to abandon it for the meeting, please?"

"That's impractical," said Snape at once, almost interrupting her.

Her response came just as quick. "Why?"

"There is no lesson this week."

Rather than inquiring herself, Minerva waited for an explanation of his reasoning. It came swiftly.

"I am doing this at the request of Dumbledore," Snape insisted. "And, Dumbledore has been aware that the student will be unavailable this week; as such, Dumbledore asks that, instead of the lesson, I visit his office for a private discussion about the student's progress with Occlumency."

For a number of seconds, Minerva stopped still and continued to watch Severus like she didn't believe him.

"So you will not be in attendance of the meeting?" she confirmed.

"I will," said Snape, "but with an early departure so that Dumbledore and I can speak with one another."

Minerva leaned in a little, without fully realising it, even though they were still a few metres apart, regardless.

"How early?"

"If the Order has their priorities in good order," Severus said carefully, "after the important details are forgotten."

The light was lower now; glancing sideways to the window, Minerva caught sight of the clouds coming in closer. Once more she felt absentmindedly in the drawer, using her fingers to search for the only quill she had nearby. Upon locating it, she removed it and placed it atop the parchment in front of her. Severus's eyes were locked to it and to her while she began to leisurely write.

Conversation had clearly come to an end. Snape grabbed one side of his cloak and swept it behind him as he made a turn towards the tall doors at the entrance to McGonagall's office.


	2. Chapter 2

The crisp, brittle air of a late autumn morning was upon Hogwarts when Harry awoke. In a small number of hours, the school grounds would be almost as empty and quiet as they were now—today was a weekend day that signified a visit to Hogsmeade.

Neville was going; he'd mentioned it enthusiastically before falling asleep the previous night. Ginny was going as well, and so was Harry's new friend Luna, along with most of his peers. Meanwhile, though, Harry and Ron and Hermione would be escorted to 12 Grimmauld Place so that they could sit in on an Order of the Phoenix meeting.

Harry remembered it. Yesterday morning, during Potions, Snape had gestured modestly but strictly for Harry to approach his desk in the middle of class, whilst the other students were labouring away at complicated potion recipes. Harry had been worried, almost lightheaded, but calm as he walked towards Snape, fearing an imminent conversation (probably one that would include abundant amounts of criticism) about his unsatisfactory performances with recent schoolwork, or the upcoming O.W.L.s, or his Occlumency training—which had honestly not been going very smoothly.

But Snape had only pulled Harry into his office and, albeit unwillingly, gave him permission to attend the next meeting. Then Snape informed him that Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, in addition to the Order itself, had also offered Harry the same invitation. Harry hadn't expected it, and had difficulty in processing the information, since it was quite unlike Snape to act with such mannerisms.

It wasn't until their midday meal that Ron and Hermione had greeted Harry with the news that they had received the same permission. Between bites of lunch in the Great Hall, they had shared questions and some nervousness, mostly from Hermione.

But today, shortly after breakfast, the three were standing on the front stairs of 12 Grimmauld Place. Once inside, they faced warm receptions from Tonks and Remus and Sirius and others, and a less sincere welcome from Mad-Eye Moody.

Standing stiff but towards the rear of the kitchen was Snape, who Harry was surprised to see had arrived earlier than he and his friends had. Slowly but certainly, preserving space for the people behind him, Harry made his way through the front corridor and further into the kitchen, where he was taken up by Snape.

Privately, he hissed to Harry, "Watch your step, Potter. You'll find this meeting over much quicker if you know where your words belong."

Harry sent a scowl up to his professor; although height was crawling quickly over Harry, Snape remained much taller than him.

"I know how to behave," he snapped.

The meeting hadn't started yet and Harry felt he had already taken a horrible risk.

"Let us hope so." Snape scrunched his nose in a sneer. "Your other professors have not come due to other responsibilities at Hogwarts."

Harry knew inherently that Snape was speaking of Dumbledore and McGonagall. "What about your responsibilities there?" he bit, wishing he could stop, but it was tempting to make retorts to Snape in an environment where he knew he was safe from any threats.

"Professor McGonagall is covering my daily tasks," Snape said, but the jeer wasn't enough anyway, "as a fellow Head of House, in my agreement to inform her about this meeting later tonight."

As little as Harry could argue with that, he was now beginning to feel intimidated, perhaps fairly. The way Snape was looking at him—severely, fearlessly—reminded Harry of the way he looked at him once a week immediately before crying out into the solitude of the Potions classroom, "_Legilimens_!" Thereby, it reminded him of the vulnerability and lack of privacy that accompanied such a harsh word.

"She knows the itinerary, I'm sure," suggested Harry.

"She does," Snape agreed, beginning to brush past, "but not the poor decisions that come along with it."

Then he had left, rounding the corner. Harry didn't look back and didn't try to watch where he'd gone. Snape, wherever he was, was alone until the meeting commenced, at which time he made a stealthy return to the kitchen, where people had congregated. The adults were given all chairs vacant, but some, as well as Harry and Ron and Hermione, had to stand.

"Tonks, would you like to start us off?" asked Sirius, who was one of the only adults standing, and their eyes slowly met. Sirius's hands were clasped loosely at his front.

She rose from her seat and used some moments to gather her words. She looked a lot between the table's wooden surface and the people's faces.

"We need to know our next steps," Tonks stated outright. "And, as we know from past experiences"—she glanced gently at Harry, who only made eye contact for the last split second she was looking in his direction—"there are increasing dangers of Dementors and other dark forces. By extension, this encompasses Voldemort and his men. And, we, the Order, even with the recent addition of new members"—Harry couldn't be sure, but he suspected her next glance was intended for Snape, a distance apart—"need to devise new strategies."

"Do you have some further suggestion?" inquired Remus from his position slightly behind her chair. She turned her head towards him briefly, and then back.

"After last year's trouble at the Quidditch World Cup, and with that tournament Hogwarts hosted," this time both stares were clearly placed for Harry alone, "I think we should prepare ourselves for heavier conflict, and more of it."

"So, a kind of battle strategy," said Moody, inclining his body towards her, even though he was diagonal and a way from where she was. His hands, corded and pale, were perched atop his walking cane; his circular blue eyeball scurried around in its place on his headband. "Or a mission."

Tonks made a small acknowledging gesture with her hand at Moody. "Along those lines," she said. "Last week Minnie owled me, sharing the same concern, wanting to know my advice."

"It's Minerva, please," Arthur corrected her, politely and simply, from close by. "Be professional."

"What advice did you give her?" asked Remus, like nobody had overheard Arthur at all.

Almost unconsciously Tonks faced her body towards Remus, or perhaps more so away from Arthur. "I didn't," she admitted. "I told her nothing was definite as of then, but that I would bring the subject up at the next Order meeting—this one—and that it isn't my place or assignment to make a decision for the entire Order without consulting people first."

"What about Professor Dumbledore?" said Hermione unexpectedly, and more than half of the heads in the room swivelled to her. Harry caught that the first head had been Snape's, and now he was blessing Hermione with one of his more vicious expressions. "Just a mention, but he must have a part, especially if Professor McGonagall does."

"Well, as it's come up"—Tonks looked as though she wanted to sit down again—"he does. You don't usually see it or hear of it, but the Order is in constant contact with him. Recall, the Order is Dumbledore's creation and his project, before anyone else's."

"He has different priorities, currently."

Snape had spoken to respond to Hermione's question, despite Tonks already having seized the task. But, the words, as most that came from his barely-opened lips, sounded painfully twisted this time.

Right before his next sentence, Snape looked centimetres to the right of Hermione, at Harry, who hardly was able to notice that his own face was bending into an unnaturally and uncharacteristically angry shape. Then, Snape's eyes returned to their original target.

"As you must know by this point, Granger," he murmured, but powerfully enough for most of the room to understand, "as Headmaster of Hogwarts, Dumbledore is often occupied with other duties and cannot attend every Order meeting or every strategy-planning session."

Hermione was quiet. She wasn't going to counter her teacher, but Harry would.

"Dumbledore cares about this more than a lot of us do," he said as firmly as he could. In the shortest pause of silence, it dawned on Harry how uncomfortable the gazes of fifteen people felt when they were waiting for him to go on. "Probably, likely, more than you do. He supports what we're doing, and we have to keep doing it even if he's not around to help."

"Keep your words in check, Potter," Snape told him, but Sirius spoke out over the callous warning.

"Don't you yell at him," he said, coming at once to his feet. Beside Harry, Hermione shifted to make room for Sirius; her shoulder fleetingly brushed the sleeve of his shirt. "You know, I could assume with some accuracy that Harry probably cares more about the well-being of the Order than you do.

"And, 'Potter.'" Sirius gave a huff. "Do you even know his first name?"

Snape's eyes were narrowed treacherously at Sirius, and all at once Harry remembered their history with one another, as exposed very recently in Occlumency.

"I must leave," he said, moving past those along the wall, already making his way for the front door.

Harry was bewildered. Snape hadn't interacted with almost anybody, except for his discussion with Harry prior to this, but now he was vague in his reason for abandoning the meeting only halfway through.

"Why's that?" Remus asked after him, as Snape pretended not to listen.

He was almost out of the room when Mad-Eye, seated directly beside the opening to the kitchen, held his cane out across the entrance to the room. Snape, his way blocked, halted still and hardly looked down.

"Going someplace?" Mad-Eye asked somewhat playfully, but Snape was not amused at the Moody peered up at him.

"To Hogwarts."

Moody waited with more patience than Harry typically attributed to him, but Snape never went on; gradually Moody's tolerance dwindled, until he removed his cane from its obstructive position.

"Tell Minnie we said hi," Tonks said with a glare, and the casual nickname was not corrected. "And that I'll owl her later tonight."

"No need," said Snape sullenly, without as much as a glimpse at Tonks. Continuing down the corridor, right before he reached the house's main door, he Apparated out of view and back to Hogwarts, although Harry had no way of certainty.

* * *

"What went on at the meeting?" Ginny asked upon taking a seat next to Hermione at the Gryffindor table. Hermione hardly looked up, and then shifted her textbooks closer to her so as to offer Ginny more room. "Was Snape there?"

"Yeah, and as bloody gruesome as always," Ron muttered from beside Harry.

Slightly, but definitely, Hermione lifted her head and shared a look with Ginny. "How did you know?"

"McGonagall acted as a substitute professor today in Potions," explained Ginny, and Harry remembered—her fourth-year Potions schedule combined Gryffindor and Slytherin students in a single class. "Some Slytherins secretly looked relieved, I think, since Snape wasn't there. There were no Transfiguration lessons today, and I don't think there are any planned for tomorrow, either."

"Why's that?" Ron asked through his food.

"He has an agreement with McGonagall to give her updates about the Order," Harry said, recounting the words to him from earlier that day but almost forgetting the heavy glint in Snape's eyes as he spoke them. "Sometime this evening, I think. Tomorrow they might be bringing it up with Dumbledore."

"Was he there?" said Ginny, hopefully presuming the wrong thing.

Harry's mouth quirked in the wrong direction. "No . . . and neither was Snape, for the entire time."


End file.
